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Frying off the handle



Dipping is an art I’ve perfected — so I had thought.

Fries, as the internet has pointed out, are ketchup shovels. I prefer malt vinegar, but the point is that they’re edible sauce spoons. Sweet potato fries, the greatest gift the starchy root vegetable has given us, are edible chipotle mayo spoons. They are vessels for which to transfer the chipotle mayo, civilly, into one’s mouth.

The SUB restaurant/cafeteria, the Canoe, serves yam fries. But it seems that no matter what dip technique I employ, I can’t make the chipotle mayo last an entire side of yam fries. (And it’s not even a full order.) I could buy another cup o’ chipotle mayo, but I don’t, on principle. I also typically don’t complain about having to pay for extra dip; it’s miserly, but I get it, it’s buying above the usual sauce allowance. The reason I don’t complain is because I expect to get enough dip for an average dip sesh in one cup.

But even trying my darndest, I can’t make the dip last. I feel like this isn’t a me flaw either.

Illustration: Amara Gelaude

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